Stories from the City
by calendaes
Summary: Carter deals with a crisis, and gets some help along the way.
1. Big Exit

Stories from the City 1/12  
By: Jenny Brown  
Category: Carter Angst  
Rating: PG, adult situations...although there will be one or two NC-17 parts  
Spoilers: Season Six and Season Seven up to "Surrender"  
DISCLAIMER: ER and its characters are the property of Warner Bros. Entertainment, Amblin Television, NBC, Michael Crichton and Constant C Productions. There is no copyright infringement intended. This has been written purely for the enjoyment of ER fans everywhere. I am receiving no monetary compensation for my work. These ideas belong to this author and in no way reflect the values or intentions of the creators and writers of ER.  
  
Summary: Carter deals with a crisis, and gets some help along the way. This story happens over a long period of time.  
  
Note: This is almost a song fic, except it's not. It's based on the songs and lyrics from PJ Harvey's brilliant album "Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea."   
  
~Look out ahead  
I see danger come  
I wanna' pistol  
I wanna' gun  
I'm scared baby  
I wanna' run  
This world's crazy  
Give me the gun~  
  
  
"Time of Death, 10:47."  
  
Carter sighed as he ripped off his trauma gown and threw it on the cluttered floor. The rooms silent atmosphere stood in stark contrast to the frenzied activity that had filled it moments before, when a synchronized team of nurses, doctors and med students had tried to resuscitate a five year old MVA victim. Her body was tiny compared to the bloodstained gurney she rolled in on.  
  
"Great way to start the day.... He thought to himself as he took one last look at the girl, now being cleaned by the nurses.  
  
"Did we ever get a name?" he asked.  
  
"Ashleigh Blackburn, her mom was in....trauma 2, I think," Chuny replied. "It's so sad. Her dad was DOA."  
  
"Yeah, well, we tried.... I guess I should tell the mom." Carter ran his fingers through his ruffled mane in an attempt to look presentable when he gave the news. It was the least he could do, considering she would remember this moment forever. He briefly considered stalling, as if withholding this bit of information would make it go away, so the woman could believe her life was whole for just a little while longer. But he couldn't do that; it was his responsibility to tell her that Ashleigh had died, for no reason other than the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
Carter took one last deep breath before he pushed through the trauma bay doors. He knew how confused and frightened the woman must be. It was only a year ago that he laid on that table wondering if Lucy was still alive. Mrs. Blackburn needed to know.  
  
He was going over the speech in his head (we used all our capabilities, and tried to resuscitate her for over an hour, but I'm sorry. Her injuries were too grave and....) when he noticed that the eerie stillness that permeated trauma one had filled this room as well.  
  
"Abby, what happened? I thought she was stable." Carter questioned as he waded through the debris on the floor towards the gurney where Abby was finishing up the death kit.  
  
"She was initially. I think it was her aorta. You know the drill...full arrest from blunt trauma...not much we could do. She died around 10:45. What did you need?" Abby looked at John with concern.  
  
"I...I was just...coming in to let her know...that her daughter died at 10:47." Carter stammered, trying to fully understand what had just happened. A whole family wiped out on a Sunday morning. It was senseless, unfair, and a thousand other things. This just plain sucked.  
  
"Oh.... well, you better let Weaver know. The sister is coming in and Weaver was going to break the news...Are you sure you're okay? Do you want to get some coffee?"  
  
"Um...yeah, just let me find Weaver. I'm due for a break anyhow. Meet you at Doc's in 15?" John asked while pushing through the double doors. He paused, waiting for her answer.  
  
"Better make it 20. I gotta check on a LOL in three. Cops found her on the EL singing show tunes at the top of her lungs. We gave her some haldol but I wanna make sure she doesn't shuffle off to Buffalo again." Abby flashed a grin as she pushed past Carter, pausing to give him a reassuring pat on the arm.  
  
Carter watched as Abby made her way through the hall, weaving through the crash carts, gurneys and medical personnel with the practiced gait of an experienced nurse. She really seemed to have it together. He often wondered if her cravings were as omnipresent as his...if she found herself staring at patients with open fractures or other horrible injuries and almost wishing to take their place; just so he could feel that warm tingling rush through his body, enveloping his brain in a painless fog.... He doubted it. She'd been sober for five years. That seemed like an eternity.  
  
John shook his head, trying to stop the flood of thoughts parading through his brain. He was at work. He had to think about patients, labs, charts, home orders, and tests. He also had to find Kerry and tell her about Ashleigh.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~Baby, baby  
Ain't it true  
I'm immortal  
When I'm with you  
But I want a pistol  
In my hand  
I want to go to  
A different land~  
  
Doc's was nearly empty when he entered the dive. The midmorning rush was over and the lunch rush wouldn't start for another hour or so. John slid into an empty booth, perusing the well-worn menu, while he waited for Abby. It wasn't that he needed to look at the menu, he could practically recite it verbatim now; he just needed to take his mind off of this morning...and of what he really wanted to do. He brushed a few crumbs off the slightly greasy Formica, sighing as he realized he still had 8 hours left in his shift. He quickly replaced the menu, as the familiar brunette entered the diner.  
  
Carter waved her over to the booth, standing up like a courteous gentleman before she sat down.  
  
"Hey, you order yet?" she asked, arranging her coat on the seat next to her while she settled in to the padded, pleather bench. She reached into the outer pocket of the coat and dug out a misshapen pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind?" she said as she whipped one out and lit up. "It's been a horrible day and I still have 4 more hours."  
  
"Yeah...go ahead." He paused for a moment, carefully considering whether or not to ask her for a drag. He looked up at her. "Um...Abby, could I?"  
  
"Didn't you quit?" Abby gave him a slightly condescending smile.  
  
"Yeah." He reached over the table and grabbed the cigarette, taking a quick inhale before he could think twice. "I did....but..." He exhaled and gave Abby a look that was a mixture of guilt, pleasure, sarcasm and puppy dog eyes.  
  
"Oh...bad day, hunh. I don't think mine could get much worse. I swear to God, the next code brown....I've had to change scrubs twice already." The waitress walked over. "Two coffees please, you want anything else?" She looked at John, waiting for his answer. He shook his head, staring down at the spoon by his cup. "Carter, are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." He shook his head, an unconscious habit that gave his true feelings away.  
  
"John..." She eyed him suspiciously, knowing he wasn't fine. She reached for the cigarette, brushing lightly against his hand. "What's up?"  
  
He should have know he couldn't hide it from her. He'd always been a horrible liar. "Oh...well, you know. It's always sad when a young person dies, and, today, with that girl...I mean...it was a whole family, just going for a drive and BLAM, they're gone...I bet they didn't see it coming...And I find myself hoping that it was the whole family, just so there wouldn't be anyone left alone, wondering just what they did to deserve it." He grabbed the cigarette back and took a long drag. "And I guess that's why I'm a little down right now. Is that okay with you?"  
  
"Yeah, of course." The waitress brought over the coffee. "Thanks." Abby inhaled the rich aroma of the java before she took a sip, savoring the bitterness. "Are you sure that's it?"  
  
John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Abby's knowing stare. It wasn't just the trauma, that much he knew, but he admitting his cravings to Abby wasn't something he was prepared to do. Only a week ago, he had confessed his addiction to his cousin Chase, but he still didn't want to tell Abby, even though he knew she'd understand it better than anyone else would. While he could finally admit to himself how bad it had been, he didn't want his coworkers to know just yet. Chase was safe; he wasn't about to let the whole world know and he wouldn't be able to tell anyone anyway.  
  
"No....yeah, I'm fine...really." John reached for his coffee, changing the subject quickly. "So...what are you doing on the 28th?"  
  
"Nothing, I think....why?" said Abby, with one eyebrow raised. 'That was smooth,' she thought,, knowing that John would tell her what was bothering him when he was ready. "Another benefit? Where's it this time, the aquarium?"  
  
"No, not a benefit, but my grandfather did enjoy meeting you, and now Gamma's bugging me...she wants to meet you." John gave her a quick smile, looking at her expectantly. "They're having a family/business friendly dinner party thing. What'd you say? It's definitely not formal and I can guarantee we won't run into Richard."  
  
"Well, that's a plus..." Abby thought for a moment, considering the message she was sending him. She couldn't deny her attraction to him, but it wasn't the right time for either of them. He was still in the early stages of recovery, and she was just getting over her break up with Luka. "I'll go...yeah...I wanted to meet your grandmother. She sounds like an interesting lady. It'll be fun." She gulped down the rest of her coffee, glancing at her watch. "Yikes, I better go. I've got labs waiting. Only three and a half more hours...Yay!" Abby rolled her eyes as she stood up and patted John on the shoulder. "I'll talk to you later."  
  
"Yeah...bye." John watched her as she left, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair. This day couldn't get much worse. At least he had that dinner with Abby to look forward to...even if it was only a business thing. He hauled himself out of the booth and left a five on the table, trudging back to work.  
  
"I met a man  
He told me straight  
'You gotta leave  
It's getting late'  
Too many cops  
Too many guns  
All trying to do something  
No-one else has done"  
  
"What'd you got?"  
  
"GSW to the chest, last BP was 80 over 40, no lung sounds on the left. IV's running wide open." Paramedic Olbes stopped as they moved the boy to the trauma gurney. "Rescue 7 is following us in, Cop got hurt, just his hand though...I'm outta here, have fun kids!"  
  
"Thanks." Luka barely looked up as Olbes left; he was too busy assessing the rapidly deteriorating patient. "No breath sounds on the left with a tracheal shift. We've got a pneumothorax. Set up for a chest tube." The various personnel moved in sync, setting up the chest tube tray while cutting off clothes, checking IV lines and looking for additional wounds. "Abby, go check on that cop." Luka said brusquely, giving her a slightly exasperated look.  
  
"Wait a minute. I have to start another IV. This one's infiltrated." Abby returned his exasperated look with her own look of annoyance.  
  
"Not in a minute. Now! Lydia can take care of that. Go look after the cop." He quickly turned his attention back to the patient, embarrassed by his outburst.  
  
Abby sighed as she removed her trauma gown, throwing it into the bin as she exited trauma 2 and made her way to exam 4 to check on the cop. Luka had been avoiding her all week, ever since they decided to break up last Friday. It seemed like a mutual decision at the time, but as Abby looked back on it, she had pushed him into agreeing with her that their relationship was headed nowhere. And it was...in her opinion. Luka wanted more...he wanted a family, a home, a wife...and Abby wanted none of those things. She'd been married and knew how many things could go wrong....and children, well, she couldn't bear the idea of bringing a child into the world if it was possible for her to pass along her mother's illness. She'd seen where their relationship was heading and wanted to save Luka some pain in the long run. He'd just started to get over the dark cloud of gloom that had hung over his head for the past year and she didn't want to induce another...as self-important as that may seem.  
  
She stopped by admit, grabbing the chart that Chuny had started on the policeman. Putting on her 'nurse' face, she entered exam four. "Officer Hansen? I'm Abby Lockhart, your nurse. I'm going to clean your arm and then a doctor will be in to see you; if you need stitches." She carefully removed the dressing, noting Officer Hansen's flinch. "I'll try not to hurt you, but the saline solution may sting a bit."  
  
"Don't worry about it. I just wasn't ready. Is that the kid they brought in?" He looked through the window of trauma 2, where Luka and his team were working feverishly to save the kid. Abby nodded. "You know, I must see 4 or 5 kids like that a week...gang violence...it's just sad....hey!" He jerked his hand back as Abby irrigated the wound. "That smarts."  
  
"Sorry." Abby carefully poured the rest of the saline solution over his lac. "Well, you're lucky. It doesn't look like you'll need stitches. I'm going to get a doc to write a scrip for antibiotics, but other than that, change the dressing once a day and keep it dry. If it gets red or starts to hurt, come back in...we'll fix you up." Abby looked up at the cop, noticing his attention was elsewhere. They were finishing up in trauma 2; it looked like the kid hadn't made it. "Officer Hansen?"  
  
"Hmm..." He turned back to Abby. "Oh yeah...keep it dry and clean...right....man...just seems like you help one kid, another dies...and so on...that kid who just died...his friends are going to fight back...someone else will probably die...not much we can do..."  
  
"Well, we can try...and we can patch up the ones that do live, so that maybe someone like you can get through to them." Abby looked into his eyes, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "I'll get that scrip."  
  
Abby left the room reluctantly. They did see a lot of gang violence and there wasn't a lot they could do. 'Oh well, treat 'em and street 'em.' She thought as she walked through the hall looking for a doc.  
"Luka...I need an antibiotic scrip for that cop in 4." Abby approached him cautiously, searching his face for any signs of anger.  
  
"Abby, I'm sorry about what happened in trauma 2. I didn't mean it." He looked in her eyes, begging her forgiveness. He knew that parting ways with her was for the best, but it didn't make him feel any better about it. He reached for the chart. "So...standard protocol antibiotics...and there you go. No hard feelings?"  
  
"Of course not, somebody needed to see that cop." Abby gave him a small smile as she took the chart from him. "And now, I'm off. Finally! See you tomorrow." She watched as Luka walked away.  
  
As she neared admit, she noticed the small crowd of personnel staring at a figure at the other side of the desk. She came to the back of the crowd, curious as to what or who they were watching and why. "Malik, what are you looking at?" she whispered.  
  
"Oh, hey Abby, we're watching Carter. Dude hasn't moved in ten minutes. We're going to see how long he can sit there." Malik smiled, enjoying the camaraderie.  
  
"I'll bet he doesn't move for another 5." Malucci grinned as he laid down a ten. "Anyone else?"  
  
Abby rolled her eyes. "God Malucci...what happened? Did he just come up and sit there?"  
  
"No, he got a phone call and hasn't moved an inch since."  
  
"Man, you guys. Did anyone think to ask him if anything's wrong?" Abby admonished the others, sometimes they could be so insensitive. She made her move, placing her chart in the rack and moving to where John was sitting. She came up behind him quietly, not wanting to startle him. She reached out and tapped him on the shoulder lightly.  
  
"John...are you okay?" She didn't get a response, so she moved in front of him, keeping her hand on his shoulder. "John?"  
  
Slowly, John looked up with a slightly confused expression on his face. "Abby? What is it?"  
  
"You've been sitting here for 10 minutes. You haven't moved an inch."  
"Really?" John's confused expression multiplied. "I didn't realize. Man, I gotta get some sleep."  
  
Abby was scared by his lack of recall. "Are you sure you're okay? Malik said you had a phone call before you sat down. Did something happen?"  
  
John's confused expression turned into one of horror, but quickly became blank again. He stood up quickly, grabbing his lab coat from the back of the chair. "I gotta go." He started for the ambulance bay, not even looking back at admit. "Tell Kerry I have to go."  
  
Abby followed him, worried by his sudden change of mood. "John, what happened? Why do you have to go?"  
  
"I gotta go. Just tell Kerry, okay?" He was getting a little annoyed at Abby and her insipid questions. "I have to go!"  
  
"I'll tell Kerry. Slow down!" Abby grabbed his arm, stopping him and stepping in front of him. "John, just tell me what happened." She searched his eyes for a hint, surprised to see tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  
  
"Let go! I'll tell you alright! Just let go!" Abby let go of his arm, but kept in front of him as he continued walking to the garage. "It's nothing really...I'll be fine...I just have to go home...my family needs me."   
  
"Why does your family need you, John?" They reached the elevator in the parking garage and John got in, motioning for Abby to stay out of the elevator. As the doors closed, she finally got her answer.  
  
He ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing his temples and avoiding Abby's concerned gaze.   
  
"He died...My father's dead."  
  
  
"I walk on concrete  
I walk on sand  
But I can't find   
A safe place to land  
I'm scared baby  
I wanna run  
This world's crazy  
Gimme the gun"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Good Fortune

Stories from the City 2/12  
  
  
By: Jenny Brown  
  
Category: Carter Angst  
  
  
Rating: PG, adult situations...although there will be one or two NC-17 parts  
  
Spoilers: Season Six and Season Seven up to "Surrender"  
  
DISCLAIMER: ER and its characters are the property of Warner Bros. Entertainment, Amblin Television, NBC, Michael Crichton and Constant C Productions. There is no copyright infringement intended. This has been written purely for the enjoyment of ER fans everywhere. I am receiving no monetary compensation for my work. These ideas belong to this author and in no way reflect the values or intentions of the creators and writers of ER  
  
Summary: Carter deals with a crisis, and gets some help along the way. This story happens over a long period of time.  
  
Note: This is almost a song fic, except it's not. It's based on the songs and lyrics from PJ Harvey's brilliant album "Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea."   
  
  
Part Two- Good Fortune  
  
~Like a gypsy  
You dance in circles  
All around me  
And all over the world~  
  
He hated this. Here he was, sitting in his jeep, staring at the hospital, seemingly unable to move. The last two weeks had been a blur of people, places and flower arrangements, culminating in his father's funeral two days ago. He wasn't scheduled to come in until Friday, but he couldn't stay at home. He'd been staying with his mother, at the home he grew up in, and the oppressive atmosphere of grief had taken its toll. He'd yelled at his mother and sister that morning, a scene that had ended with him storming out of the house and them packing for the summer villa in Europe. And now, he was here, gathering up the courage to enter the ER.  
  
He'd been like this last year, not afraid of the place, but terrified of the looks of pity on his coworker's faces...the hushed words of sympathy and the offers of support. They meant well, but their good intentions just served to make him feel more alienated,   
and further from the person he used to be...before all this happened. He just wanted to be normal again, not some fragile man that had to be watched for any signs of cracking.  
  
He sighed, releasing his iron grip of the wheel. He'd never be the same, and he knew it. The events of the past year had made sure of that; first the stabbing, then rehab and now this...his father's tragic death. This was his life now. He grabbed his attache, opening the door and walking quickly to the elevator before he could change his mind again.  
  
~Things I once thought  
Unbelievable  
In my life  
Have all taken place~  
  
The elevator doors opened and John plastered a fake smile on his face, ready to meet his sympathetic coworkers. He made his way through the busy ambulance bay, glad for the distraction the chaos would offer. Hopefully, they'd be too involved in traumas to notice him slip in the lounge. But, alas, that was not to be.  
  
"Carter, what are you doing back here? We weren't expecting you until Friday." Haleh gathered the young resident up in her arms, which would have been great but for the look of extreme pity Carter was sure she had spread across her face. She whispered in his ear. "I heard what happened. I'm sorry. I'm sure he was a good man...he certainly raised a great son." Carter cringed inwardly at her words. At least with Haleh, he knew she wasn't lying, unlike all his father's associates.   
  
They knew what a bastard Roland Carter really was; his fiery temper, his lack of ethics, and his legendary stubbornness had made him few friends in the business world, and yet, most of his partner's made a point of telling John how respected and noble his father was. What a joke! He knew they were laughing behind his back. His grandparents may have been able to keep the circumstances of his father's death out of the papers, but rumors spread fast in high society. They were just afraid of him...and so was John. He moved his head slightly, trying to signal to Haleh that the hug was finished. She pulled back, waiting for his answer.  
  
"Thanks...I couldn't stay at home. I needed to get out for a while and, since I was scheduled for today originally, I thought I'd come in." He gave her a nervous smile, hoping she would leave it at that.  
  
"Well, we're glad to see you. Take it easy. And if you need to talk to anyone...I'll be around." She gave him one last reassuring pat on the arm and left to tend to a patient, leaving the path to the lounge clear.   
  
Thankfully, the lounge was empty and he slowly walked over to his locker, fumbling with the combination for a moment before he yanked open the door. A horrible odor emanated from the top shelf, where he had left his lunch. 'Must be the tuna sandwich,' he thought as he moved to toss the offending bag. As he removed the bag from the shelf, a small piece of paper was jarred from its position, teetering on the edge while John tossed the brown bag into the wastebasket. When he took off his coat and hung it in the locker, his arm brushed the scrap causing it to fall to the floor.  
  
Carter noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, but he finished putting on his lab coat and stethoscope before picking it up. As he leaned forward to pick it up, his breath caught in his throat; it was a small snapshot that he'd forgotten he had. It felt like a slap in the face. He stumbled over to the couch, sinking into the cushions as he stared into the picture, as if some message was hidden in the background and if he looked hard enough he could find it.   
  
~Talking about  
Time travel  
And the meaning  
And just what it was worth~  
  
It was a picture of his family, taken a few months before Bobby was diagnosed with leukemia, when his life was suburban bliss. His mother was laughing, Barbara was smiling off into the distance, probably checking out some guy across the park, Bobby was digging into a mountain of potato salad while a young John tried to steal the brownie from his plate, and Dad....well, he was watching the grill, smiling at his family. It was one of the few times John remembered him smiling. He was too young at the time to remember specific events, but he definitely remembered feeling loved and secure. It was the only time in his life that he was truly content; too bad it was such a fleeting feeling. With in a month of that picnic, Bobby was diagnosed and John's world was never the same.  
  
John's head was swimming with conflicting emotions; he didn't notice the door open and his fellow resident come in until Dave was standing right in front of him. "Hey John, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
"Oh, it's nothing. I'll be fine. Miss me?" John tried his hardest to put on a jovial face, ending up with something in between a grimace and a smirk.  
  
"No, not really...just kidding! I did get to do a lot more procedures though." Dave grinned at Carter, his face falling when he remembered why John was gone. "Um...I was sorry to hear about your father. Tough break, man." Dave awkwardly patted John's shoulder, trying to think of the right thing to say.  
  
This wasn't what Carter expected from Malucci. John put the picture on the table, turning to face Dave and give him the standard response....it was a tragedy, etc...when Abby came busting through the doors. John quickly averted his gaze to the floor. He wasn't ready to talk to her yet, not after he almost broke down in front of her in the parking garage. Luckily, Dave spoke up first. He was almost as glad to see Abby as Carter was dismayed. Dave just didn't know what to say in situations like this. It was one thing to tell a patient's family about death, it was quite another to comfort a colleague.  
  
"Hey Abby! How's it going?" Abby stomped past the two residents, opening her locker, removing her coat, and slamming the door shut. If she noticed John, she didn't show it.  
  
"I'm fine, Malucci." With that she stalked off, leaving the two men to their awkward conversation.  
  
Before Dave could interject with some platitude that people spouted when someone died, John piped up with a question that he knew would keep the subject light. "Hey Dave, did you get any interesting traumas?"  
  
Dave's face lit up, and he was off. Carter had only to nod and place a few 'wows' and 'reallys?' to keep the conversation flowing. Fifteen minutes in, Dave was expounding the virtues of the sternal saw in all it's glory, having already told the story of the double right-sided GSW's that he had the privilege of saving yesterday. John had almost had enough of Dave's unbridled enthusiasm, when the door to the lounge opened once more.  
  
"Malucci! Get your butt out there! We've got patients waiting. I don't want to have to tell you again." The familiar redhead stepped out of the doorway, standing aside as Dave left to see patients.  
  
"Alrighty, chief." Dave saluted Kerry as he flew out the door. "See ya later, Carter."  
  
~When we walked through  
Little Italy  
I saw my reflection  
Come right off your face~  
  
"John. I heard you were here." Kerry sat down on the couch next to him, rubbing his forearm. "You shouldn't be here. It's too soon."  
  
"Dr. Weaver, I'm fine. Really. I want to work." John's shaking head betrayed his true feelings. He ran his fingers through he hair and turned to face Kerry with a sheepish look. "I'm ready." His voice wavered slightly and he turned his gaze back to the floor.  
  
"John, I know you." She moved her hand to his shoulder. "I want you to go home; take few more days off. Come back when you're really ready." Kerry eyed the young resident, hoping he'd follow her suggestion. When her parents died three years ago, she didn't tell anyone from work. She didn't take anytime off and it was one of her major regrets. "We'll be here...there's always more patients to see." She rubbed his back as she stood up. "Speaking of patients, I got to get back. I'm sorry for your loss, John. Just call me before you come back."  
  
John watched Kerry leave the room, then, sighing, he whipped off his lab coat and stethoscope, quickly stuffing them back in his locker. He pulled on his overcoat, taking one last look around the room. Kerry was right. He wasn't ready to be back, but he didn't have anywhere else to go. Home was out of the question, after his argument with his mother and, besides, it wasn't his home anyway. He sighed, grabbing his bag and walking through the ER, eyes down. He supposed that he would go to his grandparents' mansion; it was really the only home he ever knew.  
  
He somehow made it through the ER without attracting any attention, stepping into the ambulance bay, suddenly thankful that Kerry had sent him home. He rounded the corner by the patient entrance, almost knocking over Abby. She was smoking, hugging her arms around herself in a vain attempt to keep warm.  
  
~Threw my bad fortune  
Off the top of  
A tall building  
But I'd rather done it with you~  
  
"Hey." He said somewhat warily; he wasn't sure how to approach her. "Bad day?" He motioned to her cigarette, which she promptly threw to the ground, stomping it out.  
  
"Yeah...how'd you guess?" She sighed. "I don't really want to bother you with my problems...you've got enough on your mind." Turning to look at John, she pulled her coat tighter around her.  
  
"Well...it would be kind of refreshing to hear someone else's woes...what's up?" He raised his eyebrow, eliciting the slightest of smiles from her. "Come on...tell me."  
  
"Fine. I'll tell you...just don't blame me if my petty grievances annoy you." She stuck her hands in her pockets, as he looked at her expectantly. "This morning, I found out that the loan I applied for last year was approved, and, for some reason, I thought that sharing this bit of information with some of my fellow nurses was a good idea."   
  
"So, you get to go back to med school. That's great news, Abby." Carter flashed her the first real smile he'd given anybody in days.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought too. But, apparently, some of the other nurses weren't to thrilled with my career shift, even though I started in the ER as a student in the first place." She rolled her eyes, and continued. "So...I got stuck with the worst patients, all the clean up duty....the gross stuff. And it's not as if I don't feel bad enough about this already...I mean, I don't really have all that much confidence in my abilities as a doctor as it is, and now, with this negative pressure...I just don't know. I'm sure they'll get over it, but I don't know if I will."  
  
"Abby, you'll be a great doctor." She gave a sarcastic chuckle. "No, really, you will be. You're great with the patients and you're smart." Abby turned away from John and looked at the ground.  
  
"You really think so?" John nodded and Abby let loose a slight grin. "Thanks...I appreciate it." She brought her hand out of her pocket, glancing quickly at her watch. "Oh man, I gotta go. Thanks for listening...what are you doing out here anyway?"  
  
"Weaver's sending me home...can't say as I blame her. She's right, you know. I'm not ready." He nervously licked his lips, remembering the argument this morning. "But I can't really go home right now...I think I'm going to stay with my grandparents." He didn't want to get into this morning's event, so he hastily changed subjects. "Are we still on for tomorrow night?"  
  
Abby frowned; obviously something was really bothering him. "Tomorrow night? Did we have plans?"  
  
"The business dinner thing? You said you'd go...Gamma still wants to meet you. Please don't make me go alone." John gave her a pleading face and she couldn't resist those puppy dog eyes.  
  
"Of course, I'll go. I just assumed...that because of what happened..." She trailed off.  
  
"Well...business must go on. It gives us all something else to focus on for a while. If you come, I'll even let you see the picture gallery...Come on, I'm offering to show you my baby pictures. I can't promise you that it'll be a particularly fun evening...but that's worth something." He grinned, blocking her way back to the ER.  
  
"I said I'll go...God...can I go back to work now?" She smiled back at him, as he moved out of her way. "8:00 right?"  
  
"Yeah, we'll send a car...and dress businessy." He turned to leave, expecting her next statement.  
  
"Businessy, huh? What the hell does that mean? And don't send a car..." She watched as he kept on walking. "Okay, fine...send a car, but don't expect me to like it. I'll see you tomorrow." He waved back at her, continuing his forward stride. "Bye..." She returned to the ER, her mood greatly improved.  
  
~So I take my  
Good fortune  
And I fantasize  
Of our leaving  
Like some modern-day  
Gypsy landslide  
Like some Modern-day Bonnie and Clyde  
On the run again~ 


	3. A Place Called Home, part A

  
Stories from the City 3/?  
  
By: Jenny Brown  
  
Category: Carter Angst  
  
Rating: PG, adult situations...although there will be one or two NC-17 parts  
  
Spoilers: Season Six and Season Seven up to "Surrender"  
  
DISCLAIMER: ER and its characters are the property of Warner Bros. Entertainment, Amblin Television, NBC, Michael Crichton and Constant C Productions. There is no copyright infringement intended. This has been written purely for the enjoyment of ER fans everywhere. I am receiving no monetary compensation for my work. These ideas belong to this author and in no way reflect the values or intentions of the creators and writers of ER.  
  
Summary: Carter deals with a crisis, and gets some help along the way. This story happens over a long period of time.  
  
Note: This is almost a song fic, except it's not. It's based on the songs and lyrics from PJ Harvey's brilliant album "Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea."   
  
  
Part Three A: A Place Called Home  
  
  
~One day I know  
We'll find a place of hope  
Just hold on to me  
Just hold on to me  
Walk tight, one line  
You're wanted this time  
There's no one to blame~  
Just hold on to me  
  
The most pressing question of the moment was suspenders or belt and for this he was grateful. After he'd been shooed out of the ER by Kerry yesterday, he'd made his way to his grandparent's home and spent the afternoon avoiding his Gamma and contemplating the baffling parade of misfortunes that was his life. As it turned out, he didn't have to try too hard to miss Gamma, she'd thrown herself into her charity work, leaving just enough time for one awkward conversation on the second floor landing. It was another trait he'd inherited from her, the tendency to cover up emotions by focusing completely on something else.  
  
John sighed, picking up the suspenders and holding them up to his shirt. He was looking forward to an evening with Abby; even through he'd have to exchange pleasantries with Chicago's elite. It was a small price to pay. The time with Abby was worth it. She made him feel normal or at least that he wasn't as freakish as he once thought. She'd stared addiction in the face and kept her demons at bay for the last five years. It was something he hoped he would one day achieve and, just by knowing her, he knew it was possible.  
  
He put down the suspenders. They wouldn't do...for tonight. He grabbed the belt, putting it on hastily. In the past year, he'd only worn suspenders a handful of times. If anyone had bothered to ask why, he would have told them he was looking for a more mature look. The fact was, he didn't really understand why he stopped wearing them. They had been his trademark for so long; he used to feel naked without them. Now, every time he picked up a pair an uneasy ripple passed through his stomach. He stopped wearing them after the stabbing because they aggravated his back, but they didn't anymore.  
  
He shrugged his shoulders, staring himself down in the large vanity mirror. Why did even the simplest questions bring him back to that night? This was not good, he thought as he poured himself a glass of brandy from the decanter on top of the bureau, sipping the velvety liquid down quickly. He didn't give the drink a second thought. He wasn't an alcoholic and it had been almost a year of sobriety. One little drink wouldn't hurt. Besides, with the naltrexone in his system, it would take a lot more than one tiny sip to give him a buzz. Furthermore, he rationalized, he deserved this; it had been a rough two weeks.  
  
The shrill ringing of the phone by the bed interrupted his train of thought. It was a welcome distraction. "Hello...yeah...okay, I'll be right down...Thank you, Turner." He set down the receiver and gave himself one last glance in the mirror before downing the rest of the brandy.  
  
So...Abby was here. The gatekeeper had just called to notify John of her impending arrival. Carter slowly started to make his way down to the massive foyer. If he remembered correctly, she should be at the front door five minutes from the time she passed through the gate. He smiled at the thought of her reaction to the grounds. Would she be amazed, intimidated, or delighted? It didn't really matter to him, as long as she was here.  
  
  
**********************************  
~I walk and I wade   
Through full lands and lonely   
I stumble, I stumble   
With you I wait   
To be born again   
With love comes the day   
Just hold on to me~   
  
'What is this place? I thought we were at the house, but I guess this is some kind of gated community. I mean...I know Carter is rich...but no family can own this much land.... Can they?' Abby's mind raced with possibilities. After passing through the massive iron gate, they'd passed through a series of different gardens each grander than the last one. She'd caught a showing of "Pride and Prejudice" on PBS last week, and, for a moment, she imagined she was Elizabeth Bennett, on her way to the first ball of the summer season.  
  
It was a brief moment though, as reality crept back into her head. John was no Mr. Darcy; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't be that dark and brooding. Okay, maybe he could be that brooding, but he wasn't dark, not now. He was a great friend and hell, he was incredibly handsome, but he was off limits. Not only had she been his sponsor, but his father had just died. Even if they decided to pursue this relation-date-ship thing they'd been flirting around, it wouldn't be appropriate   
  
Abby leaned back in the seat, anxiously awaiting her arrival. She couldn't believe how long this driveway was. She started to pull at her sweater nervously, picking at non-existent lint. Dinner parties made her nervous, and tonight's made her doubly so. Not only did she feel like she was intruding on a world that was not her own, but she couldn't imagine what the mood would be like. Carter's father had just died; how could they be throwing a party?  
  
This was something she would never understand; how they go on with a party, of all things, as if nothing had happened. In fact, it frightened her a little. The avoidance of grief, coupled with the insane need to project an image to the outer world, was reminiscent of another family she'd known, her ex-husband's. Holidays used to be the worst, with the fake plastic smiles, thinly veiled resentment and the pent-up frustrations of generations. It was passive-aggressiveness at it's most terrible, and one of the major reasons the marriage between her and Richard didn't work out. Before she could dwell any further on her failed matrimony and the awkwardness of this evening's plans, the limo stopped.   
  
The chauffeur opened the door and Abby stepped out; her sharp intake of breath clearly audible as her eyes surveyed the scene before her. It was like nothing she'd ever seen in person. She knew John was well off, but this was just opulent. His grandparent's 'house' was more like a castle, complete with flying buttresses, turrets and roman columns adorning the exterior. She could only imagine the wonders that awaited her on the interior. Her wondering was cut short as she found her self on the front step, tentatively ringing the bell.  



End file.
